Fred. But reason now has reassumed its place,
And makes me see how black a crime it is
To use a force upon my prince and father.
Duke. You give me hope you will resign Lucretia.
Fred. Ah no; I never can resign her to you:
But, sir, I can my life; which, on my knees,
I tender, as the atoning sacrifice:
Or if your hand (because you are a father)
Be loth to take away that life you gave,
I will redeem your crime, by making it
My own: So you shall still be innocent, and I
Die blessed, and unindebted for my being.
Duke. O Frederick, you are too much a son, [Embracing him.
And I too little am a father: you,
And you alone, have merited Lucretia;
'Tis now my only grief,
I can do nothing to requite this virtue:
For to restore her to you,
Is not an act of generosity,
But a scant, niggard justice; yet I love her
So much, that even this little, which I do,
Is like the bounty of an usurer;
High to be priz'd from me,
Because 'tis drawn from such a wretched mind.
Fred. You give me now a second, better life; [Kissing his hand.
But,—that the gift may be more easy to you,—
Consider, sir, Lucretia did not love you,—
I fear to say, ne'er would.
Duke. You do well to help me to o'ercome that difficulty:
I'll weigh that, too, hereafter. For a love,
So violent as mine, will ask long time,
And much of reason, to effect the cure.
My present care shall be to make you happy;
For that will make my wish impossible,
And then the remedies will be more easy.
Enter Sophronia, Lucretia, Violetta, Laura, Hippolita.
Soph. I have, with joy, o'erheard this happy change,
And come with blessings to applaud your conquest
Over the greatest of mankind, yourself.
Duke. I hope 'twill be a full and lasting one.
Luc. Thus, let me kneel, and pay my thanks and duty, [Kneeling.
Both to my prince and father.